


Choking On Words And Blood

by Saigoat



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Blood, Crying, Gang Rape, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scarring, Torture, foursome?, post castration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:21:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24613714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saigoat/pseuds/Saigoat
Summary: The new Lord Bolton has been known to slip things into his pet's drinks but this is a whole new game. A game he thought his boys would enjoy as well.
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Reek, Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy
Comments: 5
Kudos: 53





	Choking On Words And Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: To be fair I was VERY drunk writing this, I apologize in advance.

Every inch of his body...he could feel the cuts the aches...with every movement, the pain deepened. It was near impossible to distance his consciousness from the humiliation that burnt within him. Bent over like a common whore…torn open like a useless bitch. Reek tried to pull himself desperately from the depths of agony, the only anchor was his Master...petting his tangled hair gently as his men took him from behind. Names, faces, touches all blurred together in a sickening slurry. The grip on the mangled creature’s hips never faltered, the thrusts into his entrance violent and wanton.

He would obey though.

He needed to obey.

This whole ordeal originated when his Lord had offered him a drink, who was he to question the motives of his Master? Grateful to relieve the thirst that plagued him day and night, the man could hardly think to put together two and two. The bitter drink went down hard, but he bleated out his thanks nonetheless. The warmth bloomed in his chest like a springtime flower. The relief was short-lived as it was quickly replaced by a searing heat, licking up his frail body like a predator. It alarmed Reek, it could mean a new game had begun...yet no parameters had been set. He could utter nothing more than a whimper, the sensation shot down his spine and throbbed in his nethers, he desperately tried to ignore it. Surely this was all just a fever dream, a nightmare fueled by desolation. The wicked grin that ebbed away from his Master’s face was swiftly swapped with a doe-eyed look of curiosity. 

“What is the matter Reek?”

“I-I...i.”

It had taken every weak muscle in his body not to collapse to his bruised knees. His head swam with sugar-sweet thoughts of touches and whispers. He didn’t care for this ruse all that much. The usual pain that was prominent from his other numerous wounds huddled to the back of his muddled mind. Whatever drug had burned itself into his system was all-consuming, it wasn’t the first time that the bastard had slipped something into his drink. This time though...it was not something to make him pass out or mellow down...it was something completely new. His skin...gods his skin itched, it crawled...he needed to be held, it hurt to just stand there. The pale dead eyes that analyzed him grew ever so full of amusement. 

“Now...Sweetling, you need to use your words.”

Sweat beaded on his brow, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He had never felt so alone, so singular in his struggle. Every second that he had been lonely in the past innumerable months suddenly strangled him with a ferocity that was unmatched by his Lord. Tears brimmed his tired eyes.

“M-master I..oh Gods..I-i”

The Bolton’s expression dropped suddenly, his men melting out of the shadows. Damon eyeing him hungrily, Skinner and Alyn assessing the situation. The boys seemed privy to the goings-on and eagerly awaited any command of their leader; watching the former Greyjoy with a disturbing amount of care.

“Looks needy, don’t ‘e?” Skinner growled.

“Doesn’t he always?” Another replied.

With a meandering pace, Ramsay made his way around the captive...lazily circling his prey… a vulture in human skin. Echoing off the walls, boot steps rang in the little creature’s ears; its body gravitating to the man looping slowly. 

“My men are rather bored, pet.” The simple statement came easily, like common knowledge, “You wouldn’t mind obliging their needs would you?”

A trick question. It pulled laughter from the passive party.

“W-whatever you want...M’lord.” It came slurred and desperate. Theon could hardly keep his eyes open; breathing heavily as if each breath were his last. Fear had abandoned the maimed boy; leaving him vulnerable to whims of those before him. Reek could feel his nub screeching for touch, aching for some sort of stimulation. His hips jutted out slightly, humping the air for a brief moment. 

With an expectant glance, Damon looked over at the brooding figure hunched above his toy. They all seemed to be waiting for some sort of confirmation...some say so to continue with the torment that they planned.

“Such a good Reek.”

That’s when all hell broke loose, he was set upon by rabid dogs. Ramsay’s rabid dogs. Rags ripped asunder, legs pushed apart...the warmth pulsing within him drowned out the warning bells. Before Theon could gasp, the man was spread open on the floor, savagely being taken by a feral beast. If it weren’t for his Master stooping to the ground to take his head in his lap, he was sure someone would be using his mouth. Moans rasped out between shrieks, Damon was the first to push inside him, the tearing masked by the heat that raged in his insides. The light-haired figure tore into his body, biting down and digging his nails into his sides.

“M-m…” Crying racked the already jagged speech, “M-m-master, please...p-ple-ease.”

Simply petting his lank hair, Ramsay sat above his plaything, admiring the twisted faces that crossed its visage. Face flushed, chest heaving the little creature let out little mewls and whimpers that were nearly drowned out by the obscene sounds echoing... filling the dank basement. Bolton let an easy smile twist his features, it was truly precious to witness his pet crumble into a writhing mess...but this was delicious. Sea green eyes struggled to stare up at him below a knitted brow, adoration mixed with...desperation, a fiery need that filled his Lord with pride. He should dope up his plaything more often, it proved to be rather interesting.

Theon’s hips stuttered back to meet each thrust, eye’s screwed shut in concentration. He had long ago learned this lesson...not to pull away or squirm too much; this hurt much less than what Master would do to Reek if he tried to escape the torment. Dirty musings poured from the man above him; the bastard’s boy was driveling mostly to himself at this point. It wasn’t long before the other’s seed flooded him, Damon’s hips stuttering to a halt. The bruising grip was replaced quickly by a thinner counterpart, rotted teeth inches from his face. Skinner pounded at him relentlessly, biting into the nape of his neck and up and down his torso. Blood flowed lazily, clotting and cooling on the pale skin beneath it. Clawing his sides like a rabid animal, huffing out filthy little nothings. The bony hips jabbing into an equally emaciated figure made for hideous sounds; though the sickly creature seemed to be absorbed in the sensations that drowned him.

“Is this what you wanted, my Reek? The lilt was dangerous, “You’re an insatiable little freak aren’t you?”

“I..ah! I-i w-w-w..AH!” Hardly managing to get a full word formed. Tears tracked down his contorted face.

“At a loss for words hmm?” Ramsay gently ran his fingers through his hair, eyes wandering over his prizes’ quivering form, “Enjoying yourself?”

The world narrowed to the two of them, detached and drifting the boy could only feel the heavy pleasure...agony...and his Master’s hands on his fevered flesh. The noises ringing in his ears was that of his Lord, not the ceaseless droning from the men savaging his lower half. Creamy white legs strained to sprawl apart further, anything to ease the way of his torturers. Anything...to please him...anything. Loyal loyal Reek is loyal. Skinner clamped down on his prey, slapping the boy’s flank brutally while he released in his messy hole. Theon’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, a hushed moan pushed its way into a guttural groan. When the bald man pulled out an obscene amount of cum and blood dripped from his entrance, staining the threadbare carpet with the Greyjoy’s shame.

“Disgusting fucking slut,” Skinner grunted, “Can’t get enough can it?”

A reluctant looking Alyn joined the fray, entering the toy they all had their wrath set on. When his manhood slid into the wretch, Reek keened. Pressing his forehead into the monster cradling his head in his lap. Toes curled, teeth clenched...blush playing over his gaunt features like a dainty maiden during her first time. It was all he could do… keeping up with the vicious pace set by the others. Whenever the sensitive spot within him was brushed over, his nails dug into his palms, his raspy voice called out for his Lord desperately. The ruined mound of flesh between his legs throbbed with a heady want, angrily red in a visceral need that the drug pushed to the forefront of his mind. It was confusing, in earnest… he had always feared Ramsay but...never had he desperately needed his Master in this way. Obeying was one thing...but wanting was a totally new feeling.

“M’l-lord,” He gasped, “A-ah! Ugh-h, Reek needs-s.”

Alyn presses his unsure hands into the man below him, bucking into the focus of his desire. The other two crowded the coupling, were kicking and fiddling with the poor creature. Alternating between getting his frail head slammed on the floor beneath them and leaning weakly on Ramsay’s thigh. The whole time the Bolton bastard was cupping his cheek, staring into his distraught eyes.

“Mast-er.” He whimpered, eyes unfocused.

When the man dug his nails in and came, everything came to a standstill. Heavy breathing, spent breaths that filled the stagnant air. The boys were certainly uncertain how to continue. Awaiting their leader’s word to move; tense and awkward they eventually vacated the basement room. 

“You did so well, Darling,”

“Are you satisfied?”

“Reek.” The voice was stern.

“Y-y-yo-you.” Theon Forced out, “Reek ju-just wa-wanted you M’lord.”

“It seems like you’re satiated, Sweetling.”

“No!”

…

“Master...I-i want you, please...pl-lease I need you.”

It was quiet for an eternity. Theon sat splayed on the ground, head cocked against the Bolton’s leg the whole while. Ramsay’s hand lay idle on the side of his charge’s face, staring off into the distance. The silence choked the pair with new vigor; Eyes locked in an unknown battle. 

Ramsay shifted his body out from underneath his captive, lifting his frail legs above his broad shoulders. Wide eyes followed the hunched figure; gasping for air like he was suffocating. 

“You know…” Bolton hissed, “You belong to me Reek?”

“Of course! Of course M’lord, Loyal Reek g-good Reek good good.” The heftier form shoved himself inside the maimed boy. Slick and used, Theon felt sloppy but it only spurred the Bastard on further. 

“You just let them fuck you,” It was accusatory, “Such a hungry whore aren’t you? I’m not enough for you huh?”

“No! N-n-no, M’lord I only w-want you!” Reek cried desperately, “You’re a-all Reek...n-needs all he wa-wants.”

Heat surged between the pair huddled on the ground. Ramsay let his hips buck into the soft warmth of the used entrance. Moans dragged themselves from Theon’s wrecked vocal cords; suffering fresh and acute. For the first time in his short little life, Reek doesn’t want to curl up and hide from this humiliation. Every cell in his being screamed for attention, for contact. A phantom longing built itself up...down in the unmentionable place...even all the rutting made no headway in alleviating the pure animal need roiling beneath the surface. Though the cool touch of his Captor sent calming waves cascading up his spine, the boys’ assault had done nothing to satiate his hunger...but his Master put a great ease in the creature’s maimed mind.

“I’d wager that’s all you think about,” Ramsay suggested, “Getting on your hands and knees for anybody with a fat cock.”

Theon let out a low whine, feeling the weight of the man invading his insides...pressed against him in such an intimate way. Thick pale fingers climbed their way to his chest, twisting and pinching at his tender nipples...he felt like a squirmy girl the way he yelped and gasped at his ‘breasts’ being fondled. Everything spun so damn quickly.

Concussed? Was he concussed? That was wretched Theon asking...he always asked complicated questions, Reek wasn’t so certain what was going on. All he knew was to not throw up...Master hated it when he did that without permission. He couldn’t pass out...Master hated it when he did that without permission. He couldn’t beg...Goddammit, it all blurred together. Reek was pulled from his meager thoughts when Ramsay angled his thrusts to provoke his prey’s wanton screaming. His Lord knew his body best...knew where the special places in him lay… were to make him squeal like a virgin. 

“...make me fucking sick.” Barely tuning back in, “You’re nothing, nothing but a disgusting cunt.”

“Yes-s, M’lord,” He meekly interjected between moans, “R-reek is fil-lthy.”

Ramsay ghosted his hand down his torso and to graze the ugly scar that occupied his pet’s groin. The moment his wide fingers pushed down and rubbed over the slit an electricity decimated the last shred of will he clung to; trembling, Theon released his evident pleasure all over his Lord’s hand and the rotting carpet beneath the pair. Whatever had been racing through his system seemed to be slowly dropping off, the agony tore at his organs like an angry beast. All he could do was press his aching skull to the basement floor and take it like the good boy he desperately tried to prove he was.

“Aw does having your clit played with feel nice, Darling?” His voice was venom dripping off dangerous fangs, “How cute.”

Scarred knees just slid open wider, eager to bring this experience to a close. He could feel each snap of the larger figures hips, accentuated by a stabbing feeling in his ruined entrance. Sobs gently shook his form, each breath an impossible labor. 

“Tsk.” Bolton grew more vicious, “Don’t start bawling now bitch, you could have half the town fuck your useless ass and you still wouldn’t be satisfied.”

The captive just nodded, it was easier to agree and take the punishment that to plead for any sort of mercy...mercy wasn’t fit for a dog like Reek. When at long last Ramsay was finished using his plaything he pushed its sticky legs as far apart as physically possible and yanked himself out...just to watch the sickening mixture of come drip out of the boy’s torn cunt. Glazed and staring into space, gravely lost in torment he forced his gaze to rest on his kidnapper.

“T-t-th,” This hurt more than anything that bastard did to him, “Than-nk you Master.”

Phantom eyes waited expectantly.

“Reek L-love-ed it.” Lip quivering, “I love y-you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope it made as much sense as it did to wasted me.


End file.
